


Five Things Jack Never Thought Parenting Would Entail, And One Thing He Totally Knew It Would

by CatWingsAthena



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016), Wunderkind (MacGyver TV 2016 Fanfiction)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, But it's also really sweet I promise, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lots of Angst, Parental Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016), Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016), Short Chapters, Team as Family, rescue breathing, so y'know, the usual Wunderkind stuff, wunderkind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24335668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatWingsAthena/pseuds/CatWingsAthena
Summary: "As a child, then as a teenager, he’d always thought as a grown-up he’d want kids. But when finances meant he had to join the army instead of going to college, and that turned from a detour into a life, he’d thought that chance was gone.Then, they appeared. Fully grown, with issues galore, in desperate need of a father who cared."Or, Jack being an amazing parent to his two messed-up adult spy children.Part of N1ghtshade's amazing Wunderkind 'verse.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016) & Riley Davis, Riley Davis & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 49
Kudos: 86





	1. Feigning prurient interest in his kids to protect them

**Author's Note:**

  * For [N1ghtshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/N1ghtshade/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Wunderkind-Season 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16166894) by [JustAnotherWriter (N1ghtshade)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/N1ghtshade/pseuds/JustAnotherWriter). 



> Hey everybody! Yes, I'm still working on my elemental powers 'verse, but this idea grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let go (my ideas tend to do that). I'm so grateful to N1ghtshade (thethistlegirl over on Tumblr) for letting me play in her sandbox! Do mind the tags, and be warned that this work also contains mentions of torture (including waterboarding), references to drowning in other contexts, references to gun violence, references to surgery, misplaced feelings of uselessness and guilt, and references to nightmares. It also contains someone touching someone else's chewed gum, in case that squicks anyone. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Also, I know I listed only season 1 of Wunderkind as inspiration for this. It actually draws from all three seasons, plus the deleted scenes. But apparently you can't list a series as inspiration on this site, so here we are.)

(This isn’t how it starts.)

(But this is part of it:)

Jack watches Mac hover in the yard, trying to make himself invisible.

When he pulls him out of line, sees the flinch at even a whisper, sees the look in his eyes, he _knows._

He needs to talk to Mac. Needs to do whatever he can to offer a little comfort (as if anything he said or did could ever be enough, as if he hasn’t just _spectacularly failed_ at protecting the kid he promised he’d protect), needs to figure out what’s become of their mission (because... how is Mac supposed to stay here? But what other options do they have?), needs to... he doesn’t even know. He just needs to be there. He wasn’t when it mattered. All he can do is be there now.

But if he just talks to Mac, someone—a guard, another prisoner—will get suspicious. And this op will be blown. And Mac will have to go back here forever, with no way out.

Jack’ll be damned if he lets that happen.

There’s only one thing he can think of to do.

_God,_ he hates it. But he doesn’t get to have an opinion about this. Not when Mac had no say in what happened to him.

He walks over to the nearest other guard, puts on a sleazy half-smile, and says, _hey man, can you cover for me? I’d like a few minutes... alone with that one, if you know what I mean._

And the other guard smirks, and nods, and Jack goes to do what he can, and to deliver bad news to someone who really doesn’t need to hear it, and to pray that Mac can pull off another miracle, and to silently rage against the fact that he has to.

...

Jack has definitely found himself in stranger situations than being dragged down the stairs to a secret basement level of a fancy hotel while babbling on about jerky, but, at the moment, he doesn’t particularly care to come up with a list.

When he’s sat down next to Cage, and they’re left alone for a minute, Jack knows it won’t last.

(It doesn’t.)

When Vera comes in, he expects the threats, the slap. He’s surprised it’s not worse, honestly. He’s joking around, wondering when she’s going to get down to business.

When she starts showing him the pictures, Jack’s not nervous. But he knows enough not to be careless, either.

Microexpressions can give a person away easily. He doesn’t have to say anything to give his team away, if he reacts wrong to a picture of one of them.

“Do you know any of these people?”

A picture of Riley comes up.

Jack knows there are times when the best lie is the one closest to the truth. He also knows there are times when your best option is to keep your interrogator as far as possible from anything remotely resembling the facts.

Jack looks at the picture of his little girl, whistles, and says “wish I did.”

It makes his skin crawl. But when Vera swipes the screen to the next picture, Jack’s chest relaxes, although his face doesn’t change.

For the moment, Riley’s safe.


	2. Becoming a living vending machine and office supply

Jack doesn’t know when he got so attached to this girl with the heavy eyeliner and the combat boots and the purple lipstick and the ridiculous ripped jeans that won’t protect her from a fall one bit.

But, somewhere along the way, it happened.

And he’s started noticing the little things.

Things like the way she’s always chowing down on some snack or other, usually something sweet.

At first, Jack thought she had a blood sugar problem (not diabetes, he’d have been informed of that, but something less serious wasn’t off the table) and hadn’t told him, but eventually he realized that, no, she just really likes her snacks.

Jack knows Riley’s dad was a major dickwad. He’s seen the evidence more times than he cares to count. And he’s starting to admit to himself that he wants to fill that role.

Only question is whether Riley will let him.

She’s become more open with him, started letting her walls come down a little. She no longer protests having to work with him at every opportunity, and Jack is fairly certain she’s no longer planning to hack the CIA and run as soon as she gets the chance (which he’s pretty sure was her plan to begin with. He’s not stupid). But he doesn’t think she’s ready for him to be her dad.

He can wait.

In the meantime, he’ll keep building trust.

When Riley looks in her backpack one day for a snack, groans, and turns back to the task at hand, Jack wordlessly hands her a candy bar. Her favorite.

Riley smiles.

It’s something.

...

“Just give him your gum, Ri, we don’t have all day,” Jack says.

A moment ago, Mac had asked for something sticky. His eye had fallen on Riley, chomping away at her gum, and he’d held out his hand.  _ Gum, _ he’d said offhandedly.

Riley had stared at him like he came from another planet.  _ What? _

Hence Jack’s current... well,  _ order _ isn’t the right word. But neither is  _ request. _

“Fine,” says Riley, spitting her gum into her hand and placing it into Mac’s. Mac accepts the gum without so much as a flicker of disgust and sticks it onto his... whatever he’s making. He’s still moving slowly from the ribs he busted in that fight on the train from Berlin to Frankfurt, but he’s working with obvious urgency. “But that’s my last stick. Make it count.”

Jack reaches into his bag and pulls out a packet of gum. They might not have much time, but Riley always thinks better when she has something to displace her nervous energy, and they’re stuck until Mac finishes the build anyway, so in Jack’s opinion these few seconds are time well spent.

Riley takes a stick, unwraps it, and starts chewing.

Jack distinctly sees Mac smile when Riley pockets the wrapper.

...

Jack wishes he could’ve surprised Mac with this under better circumstances.

But when he hears Nick talking to Mac like he’s worthless, calling him a damn  _ stop-gap, _ and sees the look on Mac’s face... he knows it’s time.

As he sits with Mac, watching his face and knowing,  _ knowing  _ he took what Nick said to heart, seeing his fingers twist for lack of anything to fidget with, he pulls a handful of paperclips out of a pocket of his TAC vest and gently places them in Mac’s hand.

The look of awed surprise on his face is heartbreaking, but it’s also confirmation that he’s done something right.

Jack makes a joke about how it makes sense given he’s not carrying any extra clips of the ballistic sort, and watches Mac begin to unbend them.

Only then does he realize what he said earlier.

_ You come near one of my kids again, and you’re gonna be a memory. _

He called Mac his kid. To his face.

Damn, was he ready to say that. But he’s not sure if Mac was ready to hear it.

Judging from the three linked paperclip hearts Mac sets down on the nightstand, though... maybe he was.


	3. Rescue breathing

The minute Jack fights his way back to consciousness, he’s dragging himself over to the rail, staring into the dark water of Lake Como.

Riley is bobbing up and down, making no sound. The water around her is stained deep red.

Jack jumps in.

A mouthful of metallic-tasting water slides down Jack’s throat as he surfaces. Immediately, he’s scanning for Riley.

There. She’s just under the surface. When he pulls her up, resting her body on his shoulder as he swims on his back to shore, her eyes are glassy, and for a moment he’s afraid she’s already gone.

But no. Something’s still flickering there.

When he gets to land, Jack lays Riley out, takes off his shirt and uses it to put pressure on her wound with one hand, and takes her pulse.

It takes him a moment, but he finds it. Slow but reassuringly present.

He watches for the rise and fall of her chest.

_ Oh God. _

She’s not breathing.

Jack takes a deep breath, pinches Riley’s nose closed, and breathes into her mouth.

He waits.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Just as Jack is about to give Riley a fifth breath, she coughs and sputters, lake water gushing out of her mouth.

Jack rolls her into recovery position, letting the water drain out of her lungs and mix with the tears running down her face. Jack can’t tell if they’re from pain or grief.

He didn’t see Nick anywhere.

He can’t call for help. His comm fell out in the water, and his sat phone is back with the van.

But Thornton would have heard what happened over comms. She’s probably sending exfil right now.

Riley’s eyes slide closed.

“Hey, now, you stay awake for me, baby, okay? Stay awake,” Jack pleads, pressing harder on the bullet wound. Riley cries out, a harsh, choked sound.

When exfil arrives, they have to pull him away.

...

Jack is perched on some rocks near the ones holding Mac’s leg down.

Mac is stuck tight, and the tide is coming in fast.

Exfil is coming with the tools they need to unstick Mac, but Mac and Jack can’t do it by themselves.

Jack has a strong suspicion that this is gonna suck.

“Don’t suppose you can make a snorkel or something, can you?” Jack asks lightly as the water laps at Mac’s chin, each wave sloshing over his head. 

Mac winces. “Not...” a wave cuts him off. When it recedes, he picks up where he left off. “...Watertight, with what we have.”

“Then we got one option, kiddo. I’m gonna have to breathe for you until exfil gets here. They’re fifteen minutes out.” Another wave interrupts Jack, and he has to pause until Mac can hear him again. “I’m sorry I have to ask, but... I need you to stay calm. Can you do that?”

Mac shuts his eyes. “...Yeah. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem...” Another wave.

Jack can read between the lines of that just fine. Mac doesn’t have a ton of bad memories associated with a mouth on his, but they definitely exist.

“...And besides, not like I have much choice.” Mac tries for a casual shrug that turns into more of a shiver. Jack’s guessing it’s not just the cold water.

The water is up to Mac’s mouth now, even when the waves aren’t coming in. Jack has time for one more question,  _ maybe. _

“Is there anything I can do to make this easier?”

Mac looks down, then holds up his hand.

Jack takes it and squeezes. A short and three long. The pattern of a “J” in Morse code.

Under the water, Jack sees Mac smile a little.

Mac takes one last breath in as the water goes out. Then, it’s over his nose.

Jack tries to gauge how long to let it go. In the end, he doesn’t go by the clock, but by Mac’s hand in his.

When Mac squeezes, he takes a deep breath, slides down into the water, waits for Mac to breathe out, puts his mouth on Mac’s, and gives him a breath.

At the very least, Mac is cooperating. Jack doesn’t know if that’s rationality or a panicked instinct to keep still and avoid making this worse, but frankly, at this point he’ll take it either way. He tries to take Mac’s pulse, but his fingers are numb. He’s just glad the water is at least warm enough that they’re not in danger of dying of hypothermia before exfil gets here.

When Jack looks at Mac’s eyes, filtered through the greenish water, they’re glassy, unfocused. It reminds him of Riley on the beach that awful night in Italy. Only Mac’s not unconscious. Just so far away from here that he might as well be.

_ Probably for the best. Just... come back to me, okay? _

They keep going like that—Mac squeezing when he needs air, Jack bringing it to him—until exfil arrives. 


	4. Spoon-feeding his adult children

As Jack watches Riley lie in her hospital bed, he wonders what he’s going to say to her when she wakes up.

She’s finally out of surgery. Now she’s going to have to face something probably more painful than a bullet to the shoulder.

Nick is gone. They didn’t find his body, but... Nick would never just leave Riley like that. Not when she was hurt and bleeding. And it doesn’t seem likely he was taken prisoner. These guys wanted the virus. They’d have no reason to do that.

Most likely, Nick is somewhere in Lake Como. Waiting for someone unsuspecting to find him.

Jack feels bad for Nick’s sake. He was a good kid. Bright, idealistic, a good agent.

But Nick’s moved on to the next world. So Jack’s main concern right now is for his daughter.

Riley’s eyes flutter open.

“Hey, baby girl,” says Jack. “Welcome back.”

Riley’s eyes focus on him.

Jack looks at the nurse. “Is it okay if I give her some ice?”

“Go for it,” the nurse replies.

Jack looks back at Riley. “You want some ice chips?”

Riley nods slightly.

Jack picks up the cup of ice and the spoon from the bedside table and scoops up a chip. He brings the spoon up to Riley’s lips.

Jack sees the exact moment the memory hits.

Riley’s expression crumples, and tears form in her eyes and slide down her face.

“Oh, honey, I know,” whispers Jack, gently wiping the tears away as they fall. “I know. Can you just take a bite of ice for me?”

Riley keeps crying, completely silent. Jack’s noticed that Riley always cries silently. It makes him want to go find her birth dad—doubtless the reason—and punch him out.

But right now, he needs to think about Riley- _ now, _ not Riley the hurt little girl.

However much she might still look like one.

“C’mon,” Jack coaxes. “Ice. Just some ice.”

Riley looks at him, eyes glazed from tears and full of hurt, and opens her mouth slightly.

Jack slides the ice chip in, and Riley’s mouth closes.

“There you go,” Jack murmurs.

Things won’t be better tomorrow, or the next day. But right now, Jack will fix what he can fix.

...

Jack scoops another bite of mashed potatoes onto the spoon and lifts it towards Mac’s mouth, then stops.

Mac’s turning his head away slightly, and he’s got an odd look on his face, like he’s trying not to cry.

“What is it, kiddo?”  _ Are his burns hurting? Or is it something worse? _

“Nothing.” Mac turns his head back and resignedly opens his mouth.

“Bullshit.” Jack puts the spoon down. “Boze? You mind?”

“No... you can stay,” says Mac to Bozer as he starts to get up from the table. “Really, it’s fine...”

“Mac,” says Bozer, sitting back down. “I’ll stay or go, whatever you need. But you’re not fine.”

Mac takes a shaky breath in and out. “I know you don’t want to hear it.”

“I am always okay to hear whatever you need to say,” says Jack.

Bozer nods.

Mac sighs. “How long can you two keep putting up with this? I mean... you can’t keep this up forever. Jack, you especially. You’re doing  _ everything _ for me. And the burns are barely halfway healed. And... I know the doctor says the prognosis is good at this point, but there’s a chance I’ll  _ always _ need help with some things. And if that happens... you’re field agents, you can’t be here all the time, and it wouldn’t be right to ask that of you anyway. And even if they do heal, that’s still another week and a half of... of  _ this. _ ” There are tears running down Mac’s face now. “Eventually you’re going to get tired of this, but you won’t say anything because you’re both too  _ good _ to say anything, so you’ll just be... helping me and silently hating me the whole time. Maybe you already are and you just haven’t told me because—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down!” Jack cautiously reaches out. When Mac doesn’t draw back, he puts a hand on his shoulder and wipes the tears off his face. “I could never, ever,  _ ever _ hate you. No matter what. Boze?”

“Never,” says Bozer. “If it was me who’d gotten hurt, and you were having to take care of me for three weeks, would you hate me?”

“No!” says Mac vehemently. Then, he looks down. “Okay, I see your point.”

“We’re your family,” says Jack. “This team. And family—real family—don’t give up on each other. No matter what.” He picks up the spoonful of mashed potatoes again. “So, I don’t care how many times I gotta say it—you’re stuck with us. And we’re certainly not gonna let you starve. Wanna finish your dinner?”

After a moment, Mac glances over at Bozer. “I am  _ definitely  _ not in danger of starving, with the amount of butter you put in these.”

“Hey, the butter makes it better! And these potatoes...” Bozer does an exaggerated chef’s kiss.

Jack slides the spoon into Mac’s mouth as he’s laughing, earning him a surprised “mmph!” followed by a glare. The glare doesn’t last long, though.

It’s quickly replaced by a look of something almost like contentment.


	5. Helping both his kids through their trauma, at the same time

Jack almost lets the call ring out.

Mac woke up screaming about fifteen minutes ago. Since then, Jack’s been sitting on the edge of Mac’s bed, walking him through grounding exercises, telling him he’s home, he’s safe, Jack is here. It’s working, a little, but Mac is still in no headspace to be left alone, or to feel like Jack is ignoring him.

But some instinct tells him to check.

It’s Riley.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo, it’s Ri,” says Jack, and Mac nods. If Riley is calling at this time of night, they both know it has to be important.

“Hey Riles, what’s up?” says Jack, keeping his tone light but gentle. Ready for anything.

“Hey Jack,” says Riley, and Jack goes on high alert. Her voice is shaking. She sounds small and frightened.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Jack repeats.

“I was out for a run—” Riley begins.

_ Oh no. Oh God no. _ It’s dark out, and even though Riley lives in a fairly safe neighborhood, things can happen anywhere. He knows Riley’s combat trained, but if someone had a gun...

Beside him, Jack sees Mac tense up.

“Are you okay? Are you safe?” Jack asks quickly.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine!” Riley rushes to say, having apparently realized the direction Jack’s thoughts are taking, and Jack watches Mac slowly relax. “It’s just... it started to rain. And I got... kinda soaked.”

Jack sighs in mixed relief and sorrow. A few weeks ago, Riley got captured on an op. They found her fairly quickly, but not before she’d been tortured.

Including waterboarding.

“Okay, kiddo, just give me one second, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jack mutes the phone, then turns to Mac. “I can’t leave Riley alone right now, but I don’t want to leave you alone, either. I’m thinking the best plan is for us to go pick up Riley and bring her back here. That work for you?”

Mac nods.

“You okay if I tell Ri you’re having a rough time?”

“Yeah.”

Jack unmutes the call. “Okay. Mac’s not having the best night either, so we’re coming to you. If it’s okay, we’ll bring you back to our place and you can stay here tonight. That okay?”

“Okay.”

“And hey, we’ll be on the phone with you the whole time. We’re getting ready to leave now.”

“Cool,” says Riley, obvious relief in her voice.

“Are you still in your wet clothes?” asks Jack as Mac hunts around the room for a jacket to put over his t-shirt and sweatpants.

“...Yeah,” says Riley. “Moving around makes it worse.”

“I know, baby girl, but you’ll feel better once you’re dry, you know that. Where are you right now?”

“My room.”

“Can you get two really soft t-shirts out of your dresser?”

“Yeah.” There’s a shuffling noise.

“Good,” says Jack as he and Mac head out to the car, Jack grabbing an umbrella on the way. “Now, can you take off those wet clothes, dry off with the shirt you don’t want to wear, and put the other one on?”

“Okay.” A series of cloth sounds. “Done.”

“Awesome. Now, do you have any pants that are comfy  _ and _ make you feel like a badass?”

A soft laugh from the other end of the line. It sounds vaguely hysterical, but it’s something. “I have my jeggings.”

Jack mouths  _ jeggings? _ at Mac, who shrugs. “Okay, go ahead and put your Jengas on... I heard that, young lady!”

“Heard what?” asks Riley.

“That colossal eye roll you just gave me.”

“It’s not technically possible to hear an eye roll,” mutters Mac.

“See?” says Riley. “ _ Someone’s _ with me on this.”

“Were you wearing your leather jacket in the rain?” asks Jack.

“No.”

“Then, once you’ve got your Jengas on, put that on too, if it helps. You always feel like a badass in that.”

“I don’t understand how clothes will magically make me a badass.”

“No, no, sweetheart, the clothes don’t  _ make _ you a badass. You’re always a badass. They make you  _ feel _ like a badass, which is different. And what you need right now. Oh, and wrap that t-shirt around your hair if you’re done using it to dry off. Don’t want it getting you wet again.”

Riley doesn’t dignify that with an immediate response. A moment later, though, she breaks the silence. “Sorry to barge in on your shitty night, Mac.”

“It’s okay,” Mac says. “Not like we can schedule this stuff.”

“That’d be nice,” says Riley. “I break down at 3:30 on Tuesday, then be fine the rest of the week.”

“We’d take it in shifts,” says Mac. “There should be a rule that only one of us can be in crisis at a time.”

“Sounds good to me,” says Riley. “We’d take two days in a row, give Jack a break for five.”

“Reverse weekend,” muses Mac.

They continue in that fashion, babbling on about whatever comes to mind, until Jack and Mac are at Riley’s door.

Jack grabs the umbrella he brought and steps out of the car into the rain, opening the umbrella as he does. He walks to Riley’s step and gives his special knock.

Riley opens up, staring doubtfully at the rain.

Jack holds out his umbrella, and she takes a deep breath and steps under.

They walk to the car like that, Jack holding the umbrella over Riley, until she manages to crawl into the backseat, mostly dry, still with a shirt wrapped around her head.

“Who’s up for a game of Yahtzee when we get home?” asks Jack.

Mac groans. “As long as you don’t pick up one of the dice and shout ‘die!’”

“And, Mac, as long as you don’t cheat,” Riley adds.

“How do you even cheat at Yahtzee?” asks Mac.

“You’d know, you keep doing it,” says Riley.

“Okay,” says Jack. “Ground rules, no puns, which wounds me, but I’ll manage, and no cheating. And, to answer your question, Riley, I’m pretty sure he weighted the dice.”

“Hey!” Mac interjects.

They drive home, bickering about Yahtzee rules, and it’s not quite okay. But it’s getting there.


	6. +1 Wiping tears

Jack has to admit, he thought the cause would be different.

As a child, then as a teenager, he’d always thought as a grown-up he’d want kids. But when finances meant he had to join the army instead of going to college, and that turned from a detour into a life, he’d thought that chance was gone.

Then, they appeared. Fully grown, with issues galore, in desperate need of a father who cared.

He’d known there would be tears of heartbreak. He’d imagined they’d be over someone who turned out not to be who his child thought in a more ordinary way, not over a boy seemingly shot dead, then turning back up as a traitor, then as a potential deep cover agent.

He’d known there would be tears of frustration. He’d thought they’d be over essays or math problems (as if a math problem ever gave Mac trouble a single day in his life), not the crushing helplessness of hands that don’t work and memories that made the helplessness even more unbearable.

But he’s there for his kids regardless.

He will be until the last breath leaves his body.

(This isn’t how it ends.)

(It never ends.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it! If you did, I'd love it if you could let me know below!


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